Winter-Night Meditations (Patrick Branwell Bronte Poems)
Rude winter's come, the sky's o'ercast, The night is cold and loud the blast, The mingling snow comes driving down, Fast whitening o'er ...
Rude winter's come, the sky's o'ercast, The night is cold and loud the blast, The mingling snow comes driving down, Fast whitening o'er ...
When, Reverend Sir, your good design, To clothe our Pilgrim gravely fine, And give him gentler mien and gait, First reached my ear, ...
The sun shines bright, the morning's fair, The gossamers float on the air, The dew-gems twinkle in the glare, The spider's loom Is closely ...
On Ouse's grassy banks - last Whitsuntide,I sat, with fears and pleasures, in my soulCommingled, as 'it roamed without control,'O'er ...
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